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Katsuki winced as he slammed into the floor of his balcony, his injured leg almost buckling beneath him. Fuck, he’d judged that landing poorly. His hands shook as he fumbled for his keys, cursing at the darkness, at himself as he finally tumbled into his private apartment.
He hobbled as fast as he could to his bedroom, where his go-bag was at the bottom of his closet. He’d have to pack a few more things, the go-bag only accounted for no more than a few overnights. At this rate, if he could make his way to port, he could probably stow away on a boat to China or Taiwan, disappear underground as soon as possible. He couldn’t risk flying by plane, even if it would be faster.
There was a sick, curdling feeling in his gut that he knew going underground meant he would be forever in hiding, never mind his hero career—but the alternative would be worse.
He didn’t think Deku would have exposed him just yet, not without an explanation from him. But if blasting him halfway across the hospital room and running away wasn’t enough of an answer, then Deku would be entirely too stupid not to try to limit his means of escape.
He clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig tiny crescents into his palms. They were callused from years, almost decades of hard work, clawing up every step of the way to make something of himself beyond what society would deem him to be. And to think he threw it all away because of a moment of weakness, of fucking biology. It was so stupid he could scream.
He threw clothes and other essentials into his duffle, his palms sweating from the adrenaline, his nerves making his movements jerky. He grimly hoped his bag wouldn’t explode on him as he kept shoving items in.
Katsuki shouldered his bag, wondering if he could risk another flight down to the ground floor with his Quirk or whether the elevator was the safer, if much slower option. His leg throbbed, and with a grimace he made his way to the front door.
He’d only just grasped the doorknob when something in his head fizzed like a warning, and in the next instant a heavy thump behind him on the balcony announced Deku’s presence. Of course the motherfucker was here sooner than expected, with his clothes still smelling of smoke, singed from where Katsuki had blasted him. As always, the son of a bitch was the wrench in his plans.
Fight or flight doused him like a bucket of cold water, and his grip on the doorknob was so hard it was starting to blacken and creak. The tension snapped with one word from Deku.
“Kacchan.” Deku sounded wrecked, desperate, wounded, and it was so infuriating Katsuki had no choice but to turn around and stab a finger at him.
“Don’t you fucking dare. You keep the fuck away from me,” even as he said it, Katsuki knew the futility of his threat. If he wasn’t so injured, if biology wasn’t working against him, if this wasn’t something that had been brewing between them every day of their lives, then maybe he could win this fight and escape.
But he was injured, his leg barely supporting him even with the adrenaline in his system; his body was exhausted, crying out for rest, a safe haven, his hormones telling him to seek shelter with his new mate, to complete the bond. And he knew in his gut that there was no force on this goddamn earth that could stop Deku from chasing after him, and that was before he’d outed himself as his bearer.
Katsuki eyed him warily, trying to gauge Deku’s reaction. He was standing stiffly, but with the weak moonlight behind him it was hard to see his face. And suddenly Katsuki wanted to see his face, wanted to go to him and see the face that he knew so well and the lips he’d kissed not half an hour ago and there was the buzzing of his skin that felt like an itch only his hands could soothe.
Katsuki gritted his teeth and gave his head a sharp shake. The conflicting signals of his head and body were giving him whiplash. Fucking biology.
“You knew, you’ve known all this time and you never told me.” Deku’s voice was raw, and… Katsuki hesitated slightly, because Deku had felt many, many things towards him, including frustrated and aggravated, but he was very rarely ever angry. But it was hard to deny the truth, and Katsuki was never very good at lying anyway (except for the one big lie, the only one that mattered), he always spoke his mind too much to ever bother.
It was true he’d suspected they were compatible mates since a year into middle school; the way his skin had started to itch with the weight of Deku's gaze, the incomprehensible desire to be near him, know him, touch him. With sinking horror Katsuki had realised it could be an imprint, the extremely rare case where two people were so biologically compatible their bodies primed for a bond even before sexual maturity. This nightmare would have begun before Katsuki could barely form memories, and that meant only one outcome for him; it was why he spent the better part of that time beating Deku down, driving him away, doing everything possible to make useless Deku stop following him. Useless, except for the one thing that society considered his right to own Katsuki.
He’d known for sure when he presented, writhing in agony on his bed as his body grew and changed, far more than mere growing pains as he missed a week of school straight. His parents had always prevaricated the truth of his omega status, hoping against hope he would be infertile for the sake of his dream, that he would never present like his omega father did, that he would never bond and reveal himself. And eventually even they had tried to get him to the hospital, scared to death when he screamed and screamed in the pain of his unbonded heat, all the worse because his body knew there was someone out there it had imprinted on, someone that was missing.
But he refused to let his parents take him, refused to make it public knowledge that he was now a bearer, someone to be cloistered and cherished and sheltered. All his hero dreams, dashed because his body was capable of producing children.
It was intolerable, he refused to let that happen; he’d die before that happened. And then Deku’s voice, floating in from their front door, worried about Katsuki even though they weren't friends anymore, and all his aches faded, his delirious mind drawn to the sound of Deku’s voice, like a warm bath after being in the cold too long. The alpha scent of him, fresh and green and crisp like the smell of a mountaintop.
He’d wanted to go to Deku, crawl from his bed, drag his useless, traitorous body through every agonising inch until he could collapse into his arms. And that was when he knew. And he hated Deku for it.
The worst thing was that at some level, Deku must have known as well, even before Katsuki’s presentation. He was always stupidly, blindly tenacious about chasing after him. And the way Katsuki treated Deku in middle school should have been enough to make anyone hate him in return, or at least run. But no, Deku kept coming back, kept dogging his heels and trailing pathetically after him, obsessed over him enough to fill ten notebooks.
Katsuki thought he’d be free of Deku once he entered UA, since the Quirkless alpha was never going to get in. But then he did. And now here they were. The secret Katsuki had kept for the better part of his life has finally been exposed, the dream he’d worked so hard to attain now out of his reach because Deku ruined every fucking thing he touched.
Katsuki drew in a sharp breath, reeling with the truth of it. Midoriya Izuku would be the ruin of him.
“So what?” Katsuki spat, his tone biting, “I don’t fucking owe you an explanation if you’re too stupid to figure it out yourself. And it doesn’t mean jack shit anyway. I’m never going to bond,” with you, he didn’t say, because he wasn’t going to acknowledge that even as a possibility. “I’m going to be the Number One Hero and you’re not fucking stopping me.”
Just as he said it, he realised that maybe he could fight it. His first instinct was to run, to hide like a fucking criminal because he knew society, the law itself, would never allow a bearer with a fledgling bond to roam free, never mind working as a combat Pro-Hero. It just wasn’t possible.
The moment Deku claimed him as his bearer, by law they would be considered married, and Deku would be able to dictate what Katsuki was and wasn’t allowed to do. And what alpha would ever allow their omega bearer to be constantly in danger’s way?
The same gene that allowed for Quirk expression was also responsible for the drastically high numbers of miscarriage and infertility, and the population in Japan was already unsustainable before Quirks came into being. Omegas weren’t immune to the problem, but they had higher rates of being fertile compared to other secondaries, and the fact that they were the only ones who could bond with their mates guaranteed children as a result. And in a world teetering on the brink of population collapse, those capable of carrying children were both revered and severely restricted in movement. Katsuki hated it, but he could admit to himself that if he hadn’t been a bearer, he likely would have agreed with the restrictions.
While it wasn’t against the law to be a Pro-Hero bearer, as some in the support and recovery teams were bearers, none had ever been accepted into the front line of combat and rescue. The risk to the reputation of any agency and the social suicide of the bearers themselves ensured that, as the public outcry would destroy any chance of a career. UA would never have even accepted his admission to the hero course if they’d known, and he only managed to get away with it because his mother promised their family doctor to keep her in designer clothes for the rest of her life if she could fix his records.
But maybe that slow death didn’t have to be his fate. Katsuki never took anything lying down, and Deku believed in things like justice and equality. If he could convince Deku to not reveal his secret, to not bond with him, maybe he could continue being a hero.
In half a year they will graduate from UA, and Katsuki will move to another country like he’d always planned and he’d never have to see Deku again, and maybe an incomplete bond will just die off eventually. It… it wasn’t perfect but it was good, the best Katsuki could do. Until Deku opened his fat fucking mouth.
“But… haven’t we already started bonding?” Deku sounded hopeful, and a stone plummeted to the bottom of Katsuki’s stomach. A cold and uneasy feeling started to crawl up his spine.
“No, fuckwit. A single kiss doesn’t initiate a bond.”
Unless you’ve spent the better part of your lives together, and your biology was so compatible that they imprinted as fucking toddlers and a single kiss could establish a fledgling bond. And Katsuki would never, ever, upon pain of death or torture ever admit it, but the fact that Deku had risked his life twice to save him, from the sludge asshole, and from the League of Villains, the way that Deku was starting to shine like a symbol of hope Katsuki could believe in… it meant something to him, and even though he’d hated it and he hadn’t fucking needed rescuing, it made him feel something for Deku that wasn’t just derision, except he hated that too, because Deku didn’t even realise he was being driven to Katsuki by his biology. And all of it was just enough that his traitorous body decided it was reciprocal.
Deku furrowed his brows. “But… but I feel something, like it’s in my mind, but an extension of some kind to you? I feel like I’m more aware of you than before, and there’s a weird pull...”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It came out flat, because Katsuki could feel the same, some part of him attuned to Deku like magnets to the north pole. It had been there faintly for a long time, but now it was stronger, the low-level hum of their emotions rising and ebbing like the tide. The fledgling bond was too new and Katsuki was shit at parsing feelings anyway, but there was something about that hum that unsettled him. Deku took a step forward, and Katsuki couldn’t stop himself from tensing all over, a full-body flinch that made Deku frown.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Kacchan,” he said carefully as he withdrew slightly and Katsuki snorted, ignoring the stiffness of his body.
“Like hell you fucking could anyway,” he snapped, and then pulled himself up. He needed Deku to cooperate, damnit. “Look. It doesn’t even mean anything. We both know I’m far better off as a hero than I would be as a bearer.” The word was acidic and disgusting on his tongue, and he hated that he even admitted he was a bearer in words.
“If you keep your mouth shut, we can graduate in peace and go our separate ways. I’ll go to a hero agency overseas, and we can blissfully forget this ever happened.”
But even as he said it, some part of him protested, a lump like his gorge rising in his throat, something that trembled afraid and sick at the thought of being abandoned by the only person he had ever even remotely wanted, the only person he wanted to touch him. Katsuki ruthlessly pushed the thought away, shaking with disgust at himself.
“But… I don’t want to forget, Kacchan.” Deku’s voice wavered but his stance was firm, the look in his eyes determined. He was achingly beautiful like this, a paragon of determination and strength all laser-focused on Katsuki, the intensity of his gaze making his stomach roil and flip. “I think… I think I’ve known for a while; I just couldn’t ever put it into enough words, this… this thing with you, how I could never look away from you. I know what this feeling is.”
With each word out of Deku’s goddamn mouth, Katsuki could feel the situation spiralling out of his control, and desperation raked at his insides. “No you fucking don—”
“I love you,” Deku said, and looked shaken by his own admission, his eyes wide, mouth slightly slack. Katsuki stared at him, a jumble of feelings inside him that warred for dominance. The weak bond between them was fizzing, sharp pinpricks like when a limb had fallen asleep, and a hot effervescence boiled up from his chest to his ears, something like both fury and relief. Fury won out, as it often did.
“And what the fuck do you want me to do with that huh? You think biology is going to make me like you? I barely fucking tolerate you, and the only thing I want from you is to fuck off while I become a Pro-Hero. You think I fucking owe you huh? That I’ll just agree to become some fucking broodmare while you—while you—” The thought was so disgusting he could feel bile threatening to rise again.
“Fuck you!” he roared, and threw his bag, soaked in nitroglycerin as it was, towards Deku and ignited it at the same time. He dove in low and close, aiming to take Deku down, knock him out long enough this time that he could maybe make a clean getaway. Except his leg finally buckled under him at the worst moment, a sharp spiking pain, and suddenly Deku was there, in his face, holding him up while the smoking ruins of his bag lay metres away.
“No Kacchan, you know I would never, I would never do that to you,” Deku cried, clutching him close and burying his face into his hair. “Please Kacchan, you know I wouldn’t, please stay. Please stay.” Katsuki tried to push himself away, but Deku just gripped tighter.
Something twisted uneasily in Katsuki’s insides, at the thought of how powerless he was right now, in exactly the most vulnerable position he could find himself in. Deku had gotten bigger, and a helluva lot stronger too. Most days it took considerable effort and concentration for Katsuki to fight him, and in his weakened state, Deku could overpower him easily. Even the sparks of his hands were less than half their usual strength.
Katsuki’s nose was pressed up against Deku’s chest, inhaling that warm-fresh smell of him and the detergent Aunt Inko had used all her life, something that he would always associate with Deku. He smashed his eyelids shut. He wanted this, hated this, didn’t know what the hell to do about any of this. In another world, where choosing between being a hero and allowing himself to want Deku wasn’t mutually exclusive, he might have, just might have, been willing to choose this. But they didn’t live in that world.
Katsuki wanted to laugh hysterically—fuck him if this wasn’t everything Deku had always wanted—to save the world, and have Katsuki with him. Granted, popping out brats to save the population was probably not something even Deku could have dreamed up, but here was Katsuki and the world on a silver platter, his for the taking, for the glory. Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut, and if there were tears at the corners, in the darkness of the room no one would see.
“Get off me you fucking oaf,” Katsuki finally muttered, and Deku sniffled pathetically into his hair.
“Wait, Kacchan, let me…” and Deku just lifted Katsuki up in one swift movement as if he didn’t weigh a single thing, while being careful not to jostle his injured leg. The fucker’s breathing didn’t even change. He straightened slowly, pulling them both to the couch and cautiously releasing Katsuki until he slapped his hands away.
“What do you want,” Katsuki said flatly. He knew he was at a disadvantage here, the moment his secret was out the power dynamic shifted permanently into Deku’s favour, but maybe he could still work with what he had.
Deku shifted anxiously, and he grasped Katsuki’s hand either out of nervousness or to try to pre-empt any punches. Katsuki let him, because even though the touch made his flesh crawl, it helped with the buzzing in his head and skin.
“I won’t ask you to stop being a hero, Kacchan. I know that’s what you were born to do. You’re the strongest hero I know, you’re my symbol of victory. But I, I do want to bond with you.” Deku’s face blushed bright red.
“I love you, I think I’ve loved you for a really long time, and it’s not biology,” Deku insisted hotly, somehow reading Katsuki’s mind because the little shit just knew him that well, “it’s not, because the reasons I love you have nothing to do with you being a bearer. It’s your determination, your fierceness, the way you live so wholly confident in yourself… I’ve always loved that about you, you’ve always inspired me to be better, and I want to be better, more deserving of you.”
Katsuki was paralysed by the emotions that were fighting within him. He couldn’t deny that he felt something when Deku confessed, that something in him was glad that Deku loved him, accepted him, wanted him.
It was strange to realise this was something being offered to him, since he had completely rejected anything that would impede his goal, but Deku… Deku had always managed to get under his skin in just the right way, and for all his years of tormenting him he could never just ignore him. Because Deku was a pathetic crybaby and Katsuki still craved something… something like his recognition, his validation, and hated him, hated himself for wanting it.
Like all that time was just Katsuki screaming silently at him, Do you see me? Do you see me now? And Deku had always been there, always, saying I do, I do. There was a reason he had let Deku kiss him in the hospital, because something about Deku’s regard and his attention made Katsuki lose all sense and reason and his hair-trigger hold on his emotions.
But he also couldn’t shake the sickening feeling that it was just biology talking, that everything he felt for Deku was driven by forces out of his control, and no matter what Deku insisted, it was the same on his end as well. Because how would they know otherwise? Their entire lives might have been scripted for this confrontation the moment Katsuki had grasped Deku’s hands when they were three and imprinted them.
They worked well together, seamlessly and like they’d trained all their lives for it, and there were things about Deku that Katsuki could grudgingly admit that he respected, but love? Love, weighed up against what he stood to lose?
“I’m sorry,” Deku suddenly blurted, flushing and looking down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry you had to hide who you are because of me.”
Hah? “Hah?” Katsuki stared at him.
“It’s because I was so weak and powerless, without even a Quirk to protect you… I don’t blame you for being ashamed of me, that you had to hide who you really are because your mate was so useless. But I swear to you Kacchan, I swear I’ll work hard to be a better mate for you.”
Deku had that look in his eyes, the same as when he would declare that he would be the Number One Hero, the fever-glint of determination that bordered on mania. Katsuki swallowed. Deku’s grip on his hand was getting stronger, so much so it was beginning to hurt.
“It had nothing to do with you, jackass—”
“It’s okay, Kacchan,” and Deku was so earnest it was stupid, it was baffling, “I know you can take care of yourself; I know you can kick my ass six ways from Sunday most days. But I want to be there for you. I want to take care of you even if you don’t need it.
“I want to do everything with you, achieve all our dreams… Oh my god Kacchan, you have no idea how much I love you.” Deku finally released his hand to press his own into his eyes, his face beet red and something like relief in his voice.
But maybe Katsuki had always known, that when Deku looked at him there was something vast and terrifying behind that gaze, igniting a hot ball of electricity in his stomach that provoked his fear and anger.
He realised now, that even as he had wanted it, he had never known how to receive Deku’s attention; it only ever made him angry. He realised now that he didn’t like the way Deku loved him. It sat on his skin like an ill-fitting suit, undeserved and uncomfortable.
“I’m not bonding with you,” Katsuki said seriously, and Deku jerked his head up in surprise.
“Wha-? B-But Kacchan, we’ve already started the bonding process.” His face was slowly draining of colour, and something twisted in Katsuki’s stomach.
“I don’t care. It’s not happening.” He knew this was beyond selfish, beyond cruel. Deku could never bond with another bearer as long as theirs existed, and if the incomplete bond didn't disappear only death could sever it. But this was always a life sentence, from a system designed to hurt.
“Kacchan, you can’t seriously be fighting this? There’s no way to stop the process, we’ll both get hurt if it’s not completed, and, and, it’s like, the law!”
Katsuki gritted his teeth. “I don’t care if it’s the law. What, are you going to bond me against my will? Breed me while you’re at it?”
Deku looked like he’d been sucker punched, his face crumpling into something like devastation.
“I would never do that! But I don’t understand…” Deku’s voice was small and uncertain. “You let me kiss you in the hospital. I thought…”
It was heart wrenching, watching Deku hunch over himself, all his old insecurities laid bare and awfully exposed. Insecurities that Katsuki had no small role in placing there, that everything was his fault. And there was the crux of it. Katsuki could rail and rage against this situation as much as he wanted, but it wasn’t going to change the fact that he’d almost certainly brought it on himself.
He and Deku had been fighting a villain with an incredibly strong Quirk, one that let him inhabit and attack from all reflective surfaces. He was annoyingly good at it, and was really only a small-time crook because he lacked the imagination to really abuse his powers.
Deku had improved in leaps and bounds over the past few years, though his style remained similar—he was still a brawler first and foremost, and his solid build reflected that. And something about One for All must have acted like goddamn steroids or something, because Deku got big, shot up and filled out during their second year at UA much to Katsuki’s ire. He was stocky and broad, with heavily muscled thighs and a strong core at the expense of agility.
Katsuki meanwhile had to keep slim for his aerial manoeuvrability, a fact that came in handy when the shitty crook’s Quirk kept him just a bit too fast and nimble for Deku to really land a punch, especially when the asshole hid in the polished steel support beams of the nearby buildings or inside cars with passengers.
Katsuki had been lucky to find that heat was enough to drive the guy out of his hiding places, and his explosions were more than capable of keeping the fucker running. And despite what the simpering extras believed in the aftermath, Katsuki did not jump in front of Deku in some sort of self-sacrificial way to take a hit meant for him, that was stupid and losing. He’d blasted himself between them, sure, but it was with the belief he could catch the guy in time.
The miscalculation resulted in him sustaining a broken leg, while Deku caught the asshole by forcing him into a shard of glass and stuffing it in a thermos so he couldn’t escape.
Katsuki had spent two days in the hospital, recovering from the broken leg and a concussion that had knocked him out cold. The first day he spent mostly unconscious while they set his leg, and when he’d woken up on the second day it had been almost sunset, and Deku was sitting beside him looking about as overwrought as he ever had, teary-eyed and mouth trembling like some useless cliché.
After the doctors had come to reassure him a full recovery with a speed-healing Quirk and the promise of swift discharge in two days with no need for a cast, they bustled out of the room while Deku stayed to twist his fingers in the scratchy cotton sheets.
“Tsk. Figures you’d be here weeping over my unconscious body, you creep. Aren’t visiting hours over?” Katsuki groused as he accepted the cup of ice chips he was handed, and grudgingly let Deku help him sit up. At least he was allowed his own clothes, god knew the hospital gowns left little to the imagination.
“Ah, well… that is…” Deku muttered, rubbing his arms self-consciously. Katsuki rolled his eyes and ruffled Deku’s hair roughly with a little shove.
“Never mind, you’re like their most loyal customer, figures they’d give you special treatment.”
“Ah, that’s mean Kacchan!” Deku frowned at him. “You’re my hero partner, of course they’d let me stay a little. Aizawa said we don’t have to report until you get better, and I’m here to make sure of that.”
“Well as you can see, I’m fucking peachy. Go wail over someone else’s corpse.”
“That’s not funny,” Deku said, and he actually looked upset. Katsuki stared at him. Was he for real? This was part of their job.
Granted, Deku had gotten a hell of a lot better at handling bodily harm to those he cared about, but it had taken a long while before he stopped having conniptions when Katsuki got injured. And it had taken even longer before Katsuki stopped bristling at any outward worry for his sake, stopped believing that concern was equated to pity and condescension. It was… it was nice, sort of. Being cared about made him feel less alone. He flicked an ice chip at Deku’s forehead.
“Relax, nerd. I’m hardly ever in hospital, and I don’t plan on putting myself in here anymore than I have to. Unlike you, I have stronger self-preservation instincts than a fucking depressed lemming.”
He began to stretch, working out the muscles that had lain a bit stiff. He was putting on a slightly brave front, because he still felt like shit and his leg was throbbing since he’d refused the pain killers—he hated anything that muddled with his head.
Deku laughed at that, and admitted to the jibe with a bob of his head. “Well, just wanted to say thanks, for protecting me back there.”
“Damn straight, what would you do without me?” Katsuki smirked at him, and startled when suddenly Deku’s eyes met his, serious and with something awful and tender in those green depths.
“I wouldn’t,” he said, and his hands clenched into fists on the bed. “Without you, I mean. I just... wouldn’t.”
Katsuki felt like the breath had been punched out of him, and he stared at Deku and his stupid mop of hair with his innumerable freckles and those large green eyes, the little slope of his nose, to the determined set of his mouth. It was like seeing him anew. A hot, prickly feeling was scrabbling in his chest, the clamour so loud it drowned out the sound of his heartbeats, his breath.
Here it was. Here was the reckoning that they’d been bracing for all this time. A constant between them that they’d moved in and out of, danced around for as long as they’d known each other. Katsuki had tried to keep his distance, had tried to outrun destiny but little by little, over the intervening years he'd gotten complacent and forgotten what he was running from. In small, unnoticeable increments he'd let Deku get closer, or perhaps it was more accurate to say Deku had taken that destiny into his own hands and forced Katsuki to acknowledge him and his strength.
“Kacchan,” Deku breathed out, and he was leaning on the bed, leaning into Katsuki’s face. He was cupping his cheek now, fingertips calloused but the touch was as soft as butterfly wings. Katsuki should turn away, he should push him back, he should, he needed to end this now, and Deku was giving him every opportunity to punch his face in and reject this. But he had let his guard down around him, and this closeness had long ago stopped being threatening and morphed into a familiar kind of intimacy instead.
Katsuki could feel the moment yawning wide and deep as an abyss before him, the irrational, almost suicidal urge to jump crawling up his spine and for an impulsive, reckless moment he wanted this to be out of his hands, wanted to surrender and in that split-second of indecision Deku kissed him, pressed lips that were swollen from being bitten to his, a touch so tender and oddly electrifying.
Katsuki’s head was buzzing, and he tried to push Deku away, but his hands refused to listen and only grabbed on instead, and Deku murmured something into his mouth. He tried to say something, like you stupid nerd and what have you done and none of it stop and it only pushed his lips further against Deku’s, a drag of skin that was suddenly intently erotic.
Deku gasped, and chased his lips with a noise like a groan, and Katsuki just opened his mouth and fucking let him. He’d had no idea how good this would feel, how insanely right it was to have the taste of Deku on his tongue and the warmth of his skin under his hands.
It felt like the rush of something nostalgic fulfilled, the burning in his lungs and legs from a climb and the view that came after, a serenity in his soul and belief that for this moment, he could be at peace with himself.
Then something… moved in his mind, like the shift of something primal, tectonic. It was startling enough that he jerked his head back, just as Deku did. And it was in that one moment, when he stared into Deku’s shocked eyes, that he felt the beginning of something alien and awful and terror inducing in his chest, the blooming of another consciousness at the end of a tether that finally snapped taut between them.
Deku’s eyes were wide as saucer plates, his face paper white. “Kacchan, you’re…” was about as far as he got before Katsuki slammed his palms up into him and let off a blast, throwing him into the opposite wall.
He spared no second to look back as he threw the window open and took off into the sky, cursing fate, cursing Deku, cursing himself most of all.
And now Deku was in front of him, and no matter how much Katsuki ground his teeth about it, he was a victim in this too. Katsuki was the one who should have known better, should have kept him at arm’s length. He was the one who should have kept a clear head. There was so much at stake and he’d just fucking lost everything because he couldn’t handle some stupid hormones and Deku’s stupid face.
“You… make everything so difficult,” Katsuki said finally, and looked away from the too-bright shine of Deku’s eyes. “You’re such a…” Katsuki gritted his teeth and forced his breathing to slow. Use your fucking words. “Could you ever choose between having me, or being a hero?”
It was entirely too honest, too close to home. Katsuki wanted to grab those words and swallow them back, and at the same time he desperately needed to know the answer. It would be bittersweet—it would hurt regardless of the answer given. The things he wanted from Deku were manifold and contradictory, all of them unfair and impossible.
There was a heavy, awful silence from Deku, and then finally, “What do you want, Kacchan?” he asked, a reversal of their roles from earlier in the night.
Katsuki could feel something horribly like tears beginning to form. He hadn’t cried in front of the pathetic nerd since the night they fought at Ground Beta and he learned about One for All. The humiliation made his face burn. Deku made a noise of distress when he saw the tears, but wisely kept silent.
“I wish I’d never known you,” Katsuki said past the ache in his throat. “If we bond the whole world will know and I don’t want to be forced to quit being a hero just because they think my biology gives them the right to dictate my life.” And he wouldn’t lie, not about this. “Without you I wouldn’t feel this way. But I do, and I hate it, I hate you. This shitty world doesn’t care about what I want. There are no combat Pro-Hero bearers, and fuck me if I don’t think they’re kinda right about that. You can preach about equality all you like; it won’t make a fucking bit of difference if the public can’t accept a bearer as a hero.”
“Kacchan.” Deku was holding his hand again, rubbing one rough, calloused finger over the skin of Katsuki’s knuckles. Katsuki shuddered at the touch, and for a traitorous moment he wanted Deku to hold him.
“I know you said it’s a choice of being with you, or being a hero. But it’s not a choice for me. I will have both, I’m not going to accept anything else.”
The sheer fucking entitlement of it, it was almost breathtaking.
“That stubborn bullshit doesn’t work in real life. It’s not up to you, you can sugar-coat it all you like but I’m the one that gets forced to quit,” Katsuki seethed.
“No.” Deku’s voice sent a frisson of cold up Katsuki’s spine. “I’m not giving you up, and I’m not letting you give up either. This is a future we can fight for, and I don’t care what anyone else says.”
Katsuki could feel something splintering inside him, something—
“Shut up.”
“Kacchan?”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Katsuki hissed, and hauled Deku forward with one fist in his collar, the other hand already drawing back for a punch. He had just enough time to see Deku’s eyes widening before he decked him solidly in the jaw and he went sprawling to the floor.
“This isn’t some fucking comic book where you can say ‘I’m here!’ and everything is just fucking roses and rainbows. I am not someone for you to save!” Katsuki could feel his throat burning, the way the tears were flowing freely now, he was incandescent with rage. “This is my life you motherfucker!” He launched himself on top of Deku, intent on raining more blows on him.
Deku’s eyes flashed, and he twisted his lower torso, grabbing Katsuki’s wrists and flipping him over with a flash of crackling green and black energy. Katsuki’s breath was knocked out of him, his chest heaving, the tears blurring his vision. Deku’s pinned his wrists and legs to the floor with Blackwhip, his own arms supporting his weight. Katsuki just howled, his eyes squeezed shut, clenching his hands on empty air, wanting to tear into Deku, rip him to pieces, rip him out of his life.
He wanted to curl up into a tight ball, the instinctive reaction of weak prey to their stomach being exposed, to being flayed open like this. He thrashed against Blackwhip. Deku didn’t give him a fucking inch.
“You fucking did this to me you piece of shit you ruined my fucking life I wish I’d never known you I hope you fucking die and I never have to see your bastard face again because I fucking hate you why did it have to be me? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE ME.”
The sudden sensation of a drop of water on his face startled him into opening his eyes, to looking at Deku’s face above him. It was eerily still, and not a single sound came from him while tears formed, collected, and fell. They stared at each other, as if really looking for the first time in years.
“Please…” Deku whispered, and Katsuki watched his throat work soundlessly, as Deku slowly lifted his hands to Katsuki’s face and cradled it ever so gently. His thumbs brushed away the tears, tracing over the delicate skin under his eyes. Deku closed his eyes and leaned forward until their foreheads touched and Katsuki just stared blankly up into nowhere.
“You are everything to me, Kacchan,” Deku murmured, just above his lips. “This will make you mad, I know. I love you so much it hurts, that I’m kind of scared of what it means. I love you so much that if you ask me to let you go, I don’t think I can.”
Deku moved his hands down, away from his face and onto his throat instead. It didn’t feel threatening, even if it should. It just felt like being owned.
“You don’t believe me right now, and I get it. Bearers aren’t combat heroes. But if you could… if you could…” The hands tightened just slightly around his neck, and Katsuki’s breath drew in with a slight rasp. “Just give me a chance. Because I know Kacchan loves me too, I can feel it through the bond. And you think that’s not enough to change their minds. But it will be, because if you love me, I will turn the world upside down for you.”
Something inside Katsuki collapsed, something like his worldview, maybe a cornerstone of his fundamental self. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Deku released Blackwhip, and gathered his limp, unresisting body into his arms and laid him out on the couch, careful of his leg.
“I know what Kacchan is thinking,” Deku said, brushing his hand across Katsuki’s forehead, “we should graduate from UA first before I claim you as my bearer. And then maybe we’ll join an agency that will understand—or make our own? And we’ll make you the first combat hero bearer. The Symbol of Victory.” Deku sounded shy, pleased.
Katsuki closed his eyes. There was no choice but to believe in this future now, to place his life in Deku’s hands and hope that it would be enough. He reached for Deku’s hand, and gripped it so tight the knuckles creaked. Deku hummed.
“Kacchan, I really do love you, you know.”
He did know. And now he was paying the price for it.